


What Would You Do For Some Chic-Fil A?

by TreacherousGnome



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-26
Updated: 2016-01-26
Packaged: 2018-05-16 07:35:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5819797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TreacherousGnome/pseuds/TreacherousGnome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chic-Fil-A tries to save face by letting gay couples eat free; the only problem? Dave's flying solo these days. But as long as he finds someone to pretend to date him, a free lunch is as good as his, as long as no one finds out, anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Would You Do For Some Chic-Fil A?

**Author's Note:**

> http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2013/03/28/chick-fil-a-gay-marriage-california_n_2971110.html
> 
> Inspired by this article! If you have any opinions on this story, please let me know either in comments or over at treacherousgnome.tumblr.com. Thanks in advance :D

                When people thought of Texas, they thought of wide open plains >They thought of Jesus freaks, and homophobia, and well, maybe there were right on those fronts, but in the heart of Dallas there wasn’t a plain for miles.

                Not that Dave Strider was complaining because as boring as the Heartland Mall was right now, at least it had air conditioning. And like, _food_. The only thing missing was a suitable partner in crime.

                Just then, beyond the throngs of asshole children and even ass-ier holier parents, he found him. He was yelling into his phone, which would have been a dealbreaker, except for the fact that the person on the other end was, apparently, a “hornless bulge-kisser” which gave the guy a pass on creativity alone. Dave took a seat next to the rancorous troll boy, waiting for him to be done so he could make the move.

                After a few minutes of struggling to not listen to that raspy voice, he leaned over.  “Hey.”

                “What do _you_ want?” His horns were the shortest Dave had ever seen on a troll, barely more than bumps on his head, and the only non-black color anywhere on his outfit was gray. Was gray blood a thing? He was dressed pretty similar to any other troll he’d seen around, with a black sweater, pants as gray as his skin, and what looked like Converse. A layer of pudge seemed to cover him, which gave his ornery expression a betraying softness. None of this was relevant to Dave at the moment, though.

                 “Do you like Chic-Fil-A?”             

                The boy gave an incredulous glare and his bared fangs might have scared off a lesser man. “Do I have taste buds and a squawk gaper?”

                “…I have no idea. _Do_ you?” Trolls had so much weird slang that he couldn’t care enough to keep up with it all.

                “Oh, fuck off.”

                Asshole though Dave may have been, he knew a hint when he saw one. He turned back around.

                But the troll didn’t, and arms still folded over the back of his chair he offered a somewhat less volatile “…Why?”, while the human was thankful his sunglasses concealed the look of surprise on his face.

                He handed over the news article, crumpled from a long day of being in his pocket.

                _GAY COUPLES EAT FREE AT CHIC-FIL-A_

                “Some PR thing they’re doing,” he shrugged as the troll boy read.

                Loathsome as it was to admit, it had probably been too long since he’d eaten, and the sunglasses kid was not exactly unattractive for a human, but the situation was just so… beneath him, which was hilarious considering that he was one of the lowest excuses for troll life there was.

                “I don’t make a habit of entering quadrants for the sake of earth food.”

                “Well, yeah.” An impasse, then. “But would you like, pretend to?”

                The boy raised an eyebrow. “So what, you’re whoring yourself out to strangers to trick people into giving you free food?”

                Dave shrugged. “Yup, pretty much. You in or not?” Straight to the point. It was an admirable and obnoxiously uncommon trait amongst humans, he had found.

                Still wary, he gave the article another glance. It was an entire meal free. A sigh. “Not like I have anything better to do.”

                As they both made their way toward the counter, Dave grabbed the trolls hand.  “’m Dave.” It was warm, almost hot, some quirk of the blood spectrum thing they had, and Dave again made a mental note to praise the mall’s AC.

                “Karkat.” He almost looked like he was smiling.

                The cashier was not. If possible, he looked even more ornery than Karkat did, which was hilarious, considering he was scrawnier than the human. Hopefully he hadn’t seen the two of them _clearly_ just meeting, Karkat thought, because he was _not_ in the mood to get kicked out of the mall for screaming at an employee. It was way too fucking hot outside.

                “Hello. How can I help you today,” the cashier lisped in the deadest monotone Karkat had ever heard. They each ordered a chicken sandwich, and even the series of keystrokes were agony, as the employee’s series of sighs let them know.

                “That’ll be-“

                Dave coughed. He held up their joined hands just into his line of sight as Karkat smirked.

                Behind the counter, _Sollux,_ as his nametag read, just kind of sighed and hit some more buttons before practically shoving their receipt at the pair. He was a troll, so Dave hadn’t been worried about the sort of ignorant comments _humans_ from Texas tended to make, but he was all too relieved when a few minutes, later, they got to leave him and his leery glare.

                “Hey.” The walk back to the table had been quiet, but they were sitting now, about to dig in. “Wanna see who can finish theirs faster?”

                Karkat snorted in disbelief. “No. I’m not a _grub_.”

                “Okay but… is it because you’re not a grub, or because you think you’ll lose?”

                Their sandwiches were half unwrapped at this point, and the words hit him as he leaned in for a bite.

                “You know what, up yours. Let’s do it.”

                They looked at each other a moment, and Karkat’s gaze was so sharp it seemed to cut through the protective shades armoring Dave’s eyes.

                Only a few flicks of fingers, counting 3, 2, 1, and a whisper of “go,” and they were underway.

                For several minutes the only sound either made was a vicious chomping that, on Karkat’s part, got almost feral. Troll fangs were deadly to chicken sandwiches apparently. Dave struggled to keep pace, and tried not to think about them dragging along his lip, as those piercing yellow eyes gazed half-shut at his-

                No, really not the time. There was free food to eat? Concentrate, Dave. The chicken was the best thing he’d ever tasted, despite barely having time to do so, and he for once thanked the wicked gods of corporate America for bestowing upon them the greatest of deep-fried gifts. He shoveled the last of it into his mouth and sat up as he tried not to puke, only to find his new companion doing the same.

                “Tie?” the troll offered.

                “Tie.” For a long moment, Dave paused to focus on catching his breath. Karkat was almost too deep in a post chicken zen to acknowledge him. “Gonne be honest. Didn’t think that would actually work.”

                “Thank fuck for once for the stick up your culture’s collective asshole when it comes to the quadrants.” At least, just this once. He offered a tiny nod of understanding.

                “Can I see that article?”

                Dave handed it over, and the boy’s sunken eyes scanned through quickly between sips of his orange soda.

                “So, is there a limit on how many times you can do this?”

                Was there? The article definitely hadn’t mentioned anything about what you could or couldn’t do. And yeah, the sandwich had been pretty ill, but _two_ sandwiches? Shit was about to get bedridden. At least, if he was lucky.  “You askin’ for a second date?”

                He got out a “you wish”, but it was mumbled, and a flush decorated his already-cheeks. “…I’m just still hungry. Do you want to stick your finger even further down the throat of corporate America?”

                “Oh _hell_ yes.”

                The chair he was sitting in wobbled a bit, which made it that much easier for Dave to rock it back to front as he thought. “We’re gonna need to up our game though.”

                “Shouldn’t be hard.”

                Shit, what did couples do? Not that Dave Strider wasn’t king of romance and wooing fly honeys because of _course_ he was, but he had never bothered with cliché relationship stuff. Leave that to the more obnoxious; he preferred to _not_ flaunt whatever he had for anyone who happened to be in a ten foot radius.

                Except if it resulted in free food, of course.

                He finally gave a nervous exhale. “Do you, uh, want pictures?”

                “Pictures?”

                “Pictures. Of Me. For your lockscreen, or whatever. Send me some of you, so if they start getting all suspicious, we can be like, ‘Bitch _what_ , would I have a picture of some random weirdo as my background? What kind of troll-slash-person do you take me for?”

                The mall food court was in full swing, with chatting and chewing and little kids crying because god forbid McDonalds didn’t have the exact shitty toy they wanted. Even so, Karkat’s scoff was audible. Dave got a feeling most of his scoffs were that way. "You're putting way too much thought into this. The flier says shit about restrictions on this, so they only words out of the grease hole that kid calls a mouth are going to be ‘Would you like fries with that?’”

                 "Okay, let it never be said that I don’t think that’s a _vital_ question to the living experience, but I’m just trying to be through." So no number, then. Not that he cared. It wasn't like he ever would have texted him after this expedition was over, right? They joined hands, tried to huddle slightly closer as they strolled, and put on their most genuine smiles (which weren't that genuine-looking, all things considered). Sollux was less than moved.

                "What do you want now."

                "Hey so we can do this again, right?” He tried to ignore how much of a dickhead the guy was being, if only for the sandwiches he guarded like some sort of dragon.

                “I’m on a break.”

                “You’re the only one _here,_ asshole _.”_ Karkat snarled.

                The boy looked just as miserable as before, with deep bags under his eyes and a grease that they both could tell wasn’t from the chicken.

                Solllux rolled his eyes. “I request that all further questions please be directed to my coworker, who cares more about you than I ever will.” His arms extend to the side, but the space there was still as empty as it had been two seconds ago. “Besides, shouldn’t you go somewhere else and actually _pay_ for your food?” Was it worth it to push the issue? Dave wondered. On the one hand, he was still fuckin’ hungry, and he and Karkat had barely got a chance to even talk but on the other, he didn’t want to seem more into this than the blasé troll boy. Gotta play it cool, after all.

                But Karkat surprised him, by suddenly becoming _very_ interested in their scheme, and going full-on suburban soccer mom on the guy’s ass. …Trolls had asses, right?

                He cleared his throat.

                “LISTEN, _SHITSTAIN_. MY BOYFRIEND AND I HAVE BEEN TRYING TO SPEND OUR ONCE-A-MONTH DATE IN THE ONLY PLACE WE COULD FIND THAT HAS MORE PEOPLE THAN _COWS_ , AND BEING THAT TEXAS MIGHT AS WELL BE AMERICA’S EXPOSED ANUS, WE’VE HAD TO SPEND THAT ONE DAY PUTTING UP WITH IGNORANT BLOATED PIECES OF LITERAL FECES SPEWING IDIOCRACIES THAT WOULD MAKE YOU PISS YOURSELF LIKE THE WIGGLER YOU ARE. GOD FORBID WE REQUIRE SUSTENENCE TO MAKE IT POSSIBLE TO ENSURE MORE OF THAT VERBAL ABUSE REACHES OUR (TROLL WORD FOR EARS) AND THAT WE’RE NOT GIDDY THAT WE HAVE TO PAY FOR THE GREAT PRIVLEDGE OF NOT PASSING OUT FROM MALNOURISHMENT FOR THE _ONE_ DAY WE HAVE TOGETHER. SO GAZE UPON US AND FUCKING _WEEP_ AS YOU GIVE THE ONLY OFFERING YOU CAN BEFORE YOU PURGE OUR PRESENCE OF YOUR CONTAGION LIKE WE _DESERVE_.”

                Shock was visible across Dave’s face, and even the employee snapped out of his glazed-over indifference.

                “I, uh… Fine. Just stop _saying_ things.” His gangly fingers flew across the cash register, like he was hoping to get the two out of there before his manager heard. Dave could only stare in awe at Karkat.

                “Holy shit… babe.”

                His expression was only slightly less volatile, but included a fang-filled grin, leaving him the hottest he’d looked all day. Their eyes met with a near-softness as they considered just how much better this afternoon turned out than they’d ever hoped.

                Sollux came back soon with the food, all but shoving it into Dave (not Karkat)’s hands and storming off out of sight.  What a champion. They returned to the now familiar seats and divided the spoils with hungry abandon, both unsure how to respond to the tirade that just went down.

                Dave offered a start. “So much for not taking it too seriously, huh?”

                “Fuck you, we were almost _denied_ the chicken of the gods. A new plan was required.” He still looked a little worked up, and part of Dave wanted to see what the next verbal tirade would be if it stayed that way.

                “Do you, uh, make a habit of this?”

                He tensed. “When people decide to be _assholes_.”

                Okay, definitely not over it yet. Dave focused on his food, since Karkat seemed to still need some time, and he did the same.

                Chicken carcass still filled their stomachs from last time, so the meal went slower than before, with them pausing to breathe at least. Dave had time to check his phone now, more out of habit than purpose, since he was keeping the Chic-Fil-A Heist of Central Texas under wraps for now. This time, Karkat took the time to enjoy, almost savor, the food in front of him, and aside from the frown, the tense shoulders, and, well, pretty much everything else about him, he looked content. Content enough, at least.

                “Eurgh, Dave….”

                Dave shook hair out of his face, shutting his phone off. “What up.”

                “Would you kill me if I was _still_ hungry?”

                Three times? Two was already more food than he’d figured he’d get today, but three? Karkat was an absolute madman.

                “ _No_.”

                He said it before they even reached the counter, with a fury and malice that had been building up since they’d last been there. “No fucking way. Two times was bad enough, but I am _not_ getting fired for giving away six entire meals to you assholes.

                Any civility he’d been faking was dropped, and he slammed his palms on the counter with such indignance that the people at the KFC next door turned their heads.

                “In fact, I’m not sure you’re even together! Because you _seem_ like the kind of douchebags who just met up and pretended to go out to get some free food. And if you don’t turn around and get the hell out, I’m getting my manager to-”

                “Exc _use_ me? We’ve been together for three years, assmunch, we don’t have anything to prove to a grease-coated bone bulge like _you_.”

                “Oh yeah? Where’d you meet?” He looked at Dave now, and his thoughts raced. He thanked Christ neither of them could see the panic in his eyes.

                “High school,” Dave blurted out, as confidently as he could, given the time frame.

                A look at Karkat now. “What. High school.”

                _Fuck. Why school. Why did he have to say_ school _._ “Robert E Lee?” This was fucking Texas, there had to be at least one racism-dedicated school, right? It seemed Sollux agreed, because he gave the two a reluctant nod.

                “What is…” A moment of thought. “his female lusus’s name?”

                Fuck, Dave didn’t have a mom, who had a _mom_? What kind of question was that, even? He felt his cheeks turn red, but red as like, Beats or a Cadillac, or something cool, of course, because he was cool with it, he was _totally_ cool with it, and it was in no way a deep-routed issue for him at _all_.

                “Roxanne.” No hesitation. Huh. Wonder where he got that from.

                Sollux nodded. Honestly, human names all sounded the same to him, but it certainly sounded like one. But the human himself looked visibly uncomfortable, even with the dumb sunglasses on.

                He squinted over at Dave with alarming scrutiny. Sooner or later, he’d slip up, admit the hoax and finally, _finally_ go away.

                Oh shit, the troll was staring at him. Were his cheeks still red? Was he biting his lip? How did he get out of this; think, Strider, _think_.

                In a flash of either genius or stupidity, he wasn’t sure, he turned to Karkat and grabbed his face with only a moment of warning before mashing their lips together with enough force to make the troll squeak in surprise. As he registered what was happening, Karkat’s rage turned into understanding, and he looped his arms around Dave’s neck, taking extra care not to scratch him.  

                Their kiss continued, as a somewhat resigned Sollux tried not to look on. Dave tentatively deepened the kiss, and his “boyfriend” responded with a loud exaggerated groan. He tried not to think about how genuine that moan sounded, and how warm and soft those jet-black lips were, which proved very difficult when Karkat was doing everything in his power to make him do just that.

                A gasp snuck out of Dave’s throat as the troll poked his tongue against his lips, and he parted them ever-so-slightly. _Fuck_. This trip started out with a fake relationship but these were some undeniably _real_ makeouts going down right now, and he returned the favor until they fell into a bit of a rhythm, stopping to let out a small gasp now and then. Dave had no complaints, none at all, but this was _not_ what he signed up for, and he could only take so much more before he had to excuse himself for “the bathroom”, so a swift revenge was in order. He retracted ever-so-slightly, staring right at a still frozen Sollux, dragged his tongue over the troll’s cheek. Karkat’s shock was visible this time, and Dave would swear that he blushed bright red.

                “Okayokay, just _stop_ , okay? I get it…” The human and troll separated, exchanging a look of embarrassment and intrigue as they caught their respective breaths. “Now order something and _go away_.” So they did, and then they did, and then they sat back at their table, just barely hungry anymore.

                It was quiet now, with both wanting to speak but not wanting to speak first, and unsure what to even speak about. Instead, they ate in relative quiet, which was just fine with Dave. For the first time all afternoon, he took a second to savor just how _good_ this shit was. Completely worth whatever hell it was wreaking on his health (not that it was too different from the daily soda and Doritos).  Thank god for this stupid gray asshole and his big mouth.

                Just then, said stupid gray asshole paused his lunch to watch Dave practically groping the sandwich, which even by human standards seemed pretty disgusting. “How’s it taste?” A nod and thumbs up. “Better than my fucking _cheek_?”

                The human coughed nearly hard enough to choke. All Karkat did was raise an eyebrow, the unsympathetic prick, expecting, it seemed, a genuine answer.

                “Yeah okay that was pretty fucking dumb. Caught up in the moment, and what not. Here’s a great idea -let’s just not talk about it forever.”

                “Please, I assume internally you’re still _fawning_ at the thought of getting that close to the superior of our species, and that the humans you inevitably tell will fall to their knees in sheer admiration.”

                “Is that what _your_ friends will do when you tell ‘em you stuck your tongue down my throat?” he asked, trying not to look _too_ smug. God, this kid was the biggest dork this side of the galaxy.

                 It was easier for Karkat to bury his face behind the bag than form anything remotely resembling a comeback, and so he proceeded to just that as he lost himself in thought. It seemed almost surreal that the people around them continued on, either apathetic or oblivious to what had went down as the two of them sat there, almost unsure *how* to continue. Were they, like, friends now? Were they anything except for an anecdote to tell at some party someday? He wouldn’t push it, Dave figured. It had been over an hour, and he still couldn’t figure out if his company was actually wanted. While he was pondering though, Karkat started gathering up the remains of their lunch blanketing the table.

                “Hey uh,” he looked calmer than he had, almost nervous, as he dug through his pocket, pulling out his phone. “If you ever want to pull this off again or anything… put your number in.”

                Holy shit. Strider, you beautiful bastard, you’d done it, you didn’t even mean to do anything but you’d _done_ it. “Sure okay. Sounds cool.”

                He scoffed but gives a little smirk. “Don’t sound so thrilled.”

                “Who’s thrilled?”

Dave made his shrug as nonchalant as possible, but grabbed the phone and put it in anyway, with copious kiss and heart emojis, of course. Perfect. Whatever they were was no longer up to him. If Karkat texted, cool, if not, well, not cool, but they said their goodbyes all the same, and with a wave and a final “See ya around, loser,” they parted, each with something resembling an actual smile on their faces and something much less resembling food in their stomachs, reflecting on whatever fate or fortune or random chance it was that brought them together that day.


End file.
